


Longshot

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [93]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cabin Fic, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, HYDRA Husbands, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Huddling For Warmth, Love Confessions, M/M, Marvel Universe Big Bang 2019, Mutual Pining, On the Run, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rimming, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 09:16:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21425818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Brock didn't expect anyone to find him hiding out in the thick of Canada. The notion is especially strong when it's the last person he ever expects the moment Jack makes an appearance.He hasn't seen his old friend and teammate since they both made an escape during the Battle at the Triskelion and he never thought he ever would again. Now though, he's standing at his cabin door covered in a layer of snow and carrying a large pack on his back while holding a look across his face like this is exactly where he belongs.Or maybe it's just how Brock sees things. He's low on supplies and maybe he's started hallucinating. He still hasn't gotten over Jack, even if Jack didn't know how he felt in the first place. Maybe the person you care about the most is the one that shows up right before you die.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [93]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59
Collections: Marvel Big Bang 2019





	Longshot

**Author's Note:**

> 1.) It was such a treat to collaborate with [RenneMichaels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenneMichaels/pseuds/RenneMichaelsArt) for Marvel Big Bang 2019! She created a wonderful companion art for this fic that I truly love so much! Please visit her art blog [here!](https://rennemichaelsart.tumblr.com) :) 💙💙💙 (Adding as a partner is unavailable at the moment but will be changed soon!)
> 
> 2.) Always a very awesome thanks to [Hydra_Trash_Gal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydra_Trash_Gal) for looking this over for me and being a real MVP for spending way too much time when I gave this work two different tenses and didn't notice for a long time lmao 💙💙💙

  


Brock thought he was dreaming when he heard the knocking at the door. Usually he was when there would seem to be any sign of life, even unwelcomed ones. No one had set foot in the vicinity of his cabin since he’d been living there, fire gently crackling next to him as he sat up straighter in the ratty armchair he dragged along from some junk shop on the back of a snowmobile.

There was another knock as he slipped into consciousness again and he quickly pulled himself out of his seat, grasping at the shotgun leaning next to him.

Hydra was immediately at the forefront of his mind but then again, they wouldn’t have knocked.

He warily made his way across the room and there was a small gap in the thick curtains that revealed it still snowing heavily outside. The radio warned of an oncoming snowstorm as it droned on in the background and it brought him back to the securely barred door. He lingered, contemplated who it was, fingers lightly grazing across the weapon in his hands as another knock bellowed out, Brock unsure if he really was willing to invite in any wandering strangers.

“Brock, I know you’re in there! Open up!”

Brock’s chest clenched painfully. He set the shotgun aside and hastily unsecured the door before he yanked it open to a tall hooded figure wearing a hulking backpack against his back.

“..Jack?”

“Yeah Brock.” He sounded tired. “It’s me.”

It was instant the way Brock felt stunned and dizzy, automatically moving away so Jack could enter. He closed the door behind him with a bit of effort, the wind fighting against him to keep it open. Jack unfastened the straps to his bag, setting it down onto the dusty wood floor with a thud, groaning in relief.

“You weren’t gonna blow my head off with the shotgun, were you?”

Brock followed his gaze to the weapon after securing the door again. “If you were anyone else, probably.” Brushing off his hands, he turned around to face him. “Why’re ya ‘ere? How’d ya find me?”

“And a hello to you too.” Jack muttered as he pulled his hood back and shook out the stray bits of snow from his dark hair. “Well, first I wanted to find you, second was to bring you some supplies.”

Brock dropped his gaze to the bag, looking back up again. “But, how’d ya find me?”

“With a lot of patience.” Jack simply said, stiffly peeling off his coat. It looked partially frozen and soaked through. He was still unsure of how Jack managed to make it up the pass and through all the forest density with just a pack and his own two legs, it _was_ Rollins though.

“I’m hidin’..in the fuckin’ mountains. Been surrounded by snow and more snow, and yer tellin’ me ya jus waltzed the fuck out ‘ere to say hi?”

Jack looked around the room until he spotted the neat row of Brock’s coats hung up along the wall, he stepped in closer to them and draped his on the last hook.

“Well, I guess I did.” He said, back still turned to Brock. “It wasn’t like I just took the day to show up, I planned things out. You know how I work.”

Brock just stared at him, wondering if he was still in his armchair dreaming. Jack was right, he did know. He was one of the best trackers he knew if not _the_ best, but there was no way Jack was standing before him, this wasn’t real. He had heard he survived, it was the last thing he needed to make sure of before he left and was never seen by anyone ever again.

Jack walked back over, hands slipping into the front pockets of a pullover he was wearing. He nudged the bag on the floor with his toe, leaning a little to get at the side pocket. “Do you still like those cookies, the..pevarini’s?”

Brock only stared at him and it prompted Jack to pull out a small, tightly secured bundled package, holding it out for him. He took it and carefully opened it to find those familiar brown cookies he used to occasionally bring with him to work. A few had perished en route but most of them were okay, if not slightly cold.

“I figured you didn’t have them out here.”

“I..” Brock’s throat tightened. He dropped his gaze to his feet trying to hide any sign of emotion coming across his face, he didn’t see Jack move closer until he was suddenly engulfed in a rough embrace and he choked back a small noise.

Jack was here, not a figment of his imagination, warm and solid. Brock bundled the package in his fist and threw his arms around, embracing him just as tightly, burying his face momentarily into slightly dampened hair as he struggled to hold back his elation.

“So..” Jack finally broke in, stepping back after a moment. “After so many years of living alone, did you forget how to be a good host or were you always like this? I can’t recall since you never invited me to your place back then either, always had to be mine, or the bar.”

Brock rolled his eyes as he turned for the hiking bag, feeling overwhelmed but pleased, at least Jack’s asshole sense of humour never changed.

*****

It was a very bad idea that Jack showed up. But it wasn’t like he could tell him to get lost, so he gave him a miniature tour of his humble abode; a square layout of a sitting area with a fireplace, a small table for eating at next to the kitchenette space. He had taken one corner by the door to store firewood and basically keep it as a mud room. At the back was a toilet and a standing shower cordoned off by curtains since he saw no need for anything more private. Near that was a ladder for the partial loft space that held a bed where he slept most nights, though the skylight that he appreciated staring out of was currently covered in layers of snow.

Jack silently followed behind him and Brock tried his best to keep his voice neutral, clearing his throat when he felt that lump coming back. 

Returning next to the fire it was warming, comforting. It reminded him of when he had first arrived and was so used to doing everything with matches or lighters. He wasn’t thinking about when he was _out_ of those but he quickly adapted, managed to figure it out because he knew of them, he just always had someone else to get it done, had someone to bark orders to.

“Damn.”

Confused, Brock turned to see Jack staring around at the whole space in a kind of awe.

“What?”

“You’re living in _this_? It doesn’t get claustrophobic for you? Cabin feverish?”

Brock frowned. “Because I can afford to get a big fuckin’ place. Yeah, might as well put all the bells and whistles on while ‘m at it, a big ol’ fuckin’ bullseye on my back.”

“Still, you deserve a lot more than this.” Jack countered. “You’re supposed to at least be comfortable.”

Brock’s throat felt tight again and he swallowed hard, turning his back to him. He shifted towards the bag, unfastening the straps and zippers so he could start unpacking it, ignoring the way his skin warmed.

Jack approached to help, pulling out the perishable and semi perishable items; fresh cheese and blocks of butter, a bundled bag of vegetables and fruit. There wasn’t much but they were things Brock didn’t always have and he was grateful, taking them to keep in the small space of below storage he used as a backup cooler. He tried to collect himself all over again while he did.

By the time he returned, the backpack was emptied out and hung against one of the coat hooks to dry, a thick crocheted blanket sat in his armchair as well as some warm clothes and a few weapons that looked like they were mostly for hunting. Jack himself was perched before the fire, hands out to warm them up.

Brock felt the blanket between his fingers, its heft surprising him.

“The last time we were in a cabin together..” Jack murmured, not looking his way. “You complained about how cold it was and how you missed your Nonna’s blanket. It’s not the same thing, but figured I’d bring one out anyway, didn’t know how warm you were and an extra isn’t a bad thing.”

“Yeah.” Brock agreed, running his hand along the top of it. “Thanks, Jackie.”

There was a long delay before Jack said, “You’re welcome.”

*****

When Jack was warmed up from the fire again, he stood and made a slow amble around the cabin while Brock tried on the heavy sweater Jack brought him. It was a little big but it was warm and he already didn’t want to take it off. It smelled gently of Jack, that woodsy cologne he liked and his stomach did flip-flops over the realization. 

“So, is this your endgame? Living out the rest of your life on the run, in a cabin located in the middle of nowhere?”

Brock felt his cheeks flush with heat. 

“Well, what’re ya doin’? I’m assumin’ ya didn’t jus casually stay in some fancy hotel and walk around a free man while ya planned this visit. Gonna hand yerself in after this?” He threw right back.

Jack groaned. “Yeah, that’s what I did. I stood my ass in front of every camera I could before I got here, gonna bring everyone I can to get us arrested, idiot.”

“Then yer endgame ain’t any better than mine, whatever it is.”

“I’m not sure I even have a solid one yet.” Jack admitted. “I’m still trying to get a feel for it.” 

Brock glared his way. “Then why ya gotta start shit with me about mine because clearly I gotta better idea than- ”

“Yeah, okay Brock. Okay.” Jack interrupted, clearly agitated but pushing the issue aside. “I didn’t come all this way and practically risk my life just to argue with you.”

Brock hesitated. “Why’d ya come then?”

Jack scowled and approached the small pile of personal things he brought that were set out on the coffee table, picking up a small plastic bag that was holding a paper bagged parcel. Tossing the package to Brock, he frowned at him.

“I also brought those mini peanut butter cups you like.” He bit out.

Brock let out a strangled laugh, taking one of the gold foiled candies and setting the rest back down on the table. Carefully he unwrapped it and put it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“They’re good.” He said, his voice cracking a little. 

God, he was so fucking tired.

*****

For someone who must have taken weeks to get here, trudging through the snow and taking however months to find him even though he didn’t completely know why, Jack was still alert and very present.

He made use of Brock’s tiny little kitchen, rummaging through a meagre collection of stored pots to finally come up with a kettle for some tea. Brock had been making coffee since arriving, a percolator already on the two burner camp stove but Jack ignored it completely for the time being. 

Brock couldn’t get a word out of him and instead went back to looking at the package of thick warm socks and long johns. It wasn’t until Jack came back to him holding out a cup of tea and resting it beside the clothes that Brock realized he hadn’t heard a thing he said just a moment ago. 

“What?”

“Drink it, you’re getting a little sick.”

Brock frowned, opening his mouth to say he wasn’t, only to get Jack’s back again and watched him head off to do something else. He didn’t even know he had tea around but assumed Jack had brought it with him, picking up the mug and eyeing the dark amber liquid suspiciously. It wasn’t actually a new thing for him, he just preferred coffee over it but from the small fibrous bits he could see floating about in it, Jack had made it with ginger and a little bit of honey. It was what he always made when he knew Brock was getting sick, he was always right about it too, the asshole. 

He took a cautious sip and he was taken back again, to Jack’s couch, a blanket draped around his shoulders with his friend nagging him about taking care of himself. Maybe Brock felt like shit but he’d still argue back and then they’d watch stupid action movies before he’d pass out from heavily medicating himself. It was just what normally happened.

He let his eyelids take a little rest, mug warm against his palm and absently, while he went in and out of his nap, Jack had come in, taken the cup from his hand and just as quick as those footsteps arrived, away they went again.

By the time he was actually awake once more, he realized a chunk of the afternoon had gone by before he even met it and Jack had taken the place over. His eyes wandered after him, half confused and half curious. At some point he had been outside, stamped out snow across the floor by the door, a notebook open on the table with a pencil resting against it that had a general list of what food supplies Brock had and what he needed.

Brock really didn’t realize how much he wasn’t doing until he saw Jack up in the loft wordlessly stripping his bed of its sheets and bringing them downstairs to soak them in a storage bin of boiled water, pouring more of in as he added soap before scrubbing away. At the back of the room, Jack had already hand washed a load of spare clothes, all hung out on a makeshift line to dry and Brock suddenly felt a little ashamed over how much he’d been neglecting recent.

“Ya let me sleep and you were washin’ my clothes? You..” He trailed off awkwardly. “Want me to do anythin’?”

Jack looked up, arms red as they went back into the water, sleeves rolled up to his biceps. “Everything’s done. I killed a couple of rabbits on the way here, now they’re in a pot on that little camp stove you have. Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything.”

“A couple of rabbits?” Brock let out, bewildered, but now that he realized it, he was smelling some sort of stew wafting around. “When did ya have time to kill fuckin’ rabbits with that pack on and the snow tryin’ to kill ya? What the hell, Jack?” 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d welcome me in and I could have been completely wrong about where you were hiding out. Besides, now I know it was the right decision from the sight of you.”

“What’s that supposedta mean?” Brock asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

Jack looked up at him a moment before going back to the task at hand. “You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

Sure Brock didn’t eat as much as before, but he certainly wasn’t starving. Not that he felt like he was anyway and sensing his defences going up. “I get by jus fine with what I’m catchin’. Who asked ya to jus walk in and take over the place?”

Jack shrugged without saying anything else and Brock shook his head as he turned away from him, picking up the notebook instead and flipping the page to see perimeter points and calculations around the cabin, his attention on Jack quickly forgotten.

*****

Brock had blocked out how much he had missed Jack’s cooking. It seemed like he was always able to make something delicious out of nothing but scraps. He was always the lifesaver when they were cooped up somewhere for too long and rations were dwindling. They’d figure it out, Jack would make sure of it and never did any of the team go to bed with hunger pains or the dissatisfaction of eating just measly crumbs. 

They sat by the fire instead of at the little table, sharing mutual but comfortable silence together eating rabbit stew that tasted like the best thing Brock had eaten in years. Jack might have been right about the lost weight, the thought crossed his mind as he helped himself to another hunk of bread and a second bowl, but if Jack stayed for a while, he was definitely going to put it all back on again which may have been his exact plan all along.

As he was scraping the last little bits from out of his bowl, Jack grabbed his attention with one strong gaze.

“How come your perimeter isn’t protected?”

Brock avoided staring at him as he set the dish down beside the other one. “How ya know it ain’t?”

“I _know_. It used to be part of my job, remember? I did a walk around before I knocked on your door, probably could have broken in anyway. You’re completely vulnerable for anything. Even a bear. A shotgun wouldn’t save you fast enough with one of those tearing through your sitting room if it was desperate to get to you.”

“There ain’t any bears over ‘ere that wanna fuck with me, Rollins. That’s what _I_ know, been ‘ere for a few years to understand that.”

Jack didn’t buy it judging from the way he frowned but it was the truth. He’d never had a bear trying to get inside, sure he’d had them patrol around but never do anything to damage his walls or door. They would get curious, look around and set off again. He knew not to make anything look enticing and suddenly he wasn’t worth their time.

“We still need to make some basic perimeter flags just to be secure.”

“_We_?”

Jack levelled him with a serious expression. “How the hell are you going to do it by yourself? You’ve been here for years and never set any of that. So yes, _we_. It’s like you gave up giving a shit.”

Maybe Brock had, a little. Life was just easier to live when it was only him to rely on, no one to betray him, no one to fuck with his head and make him believe in the _greater good_ and all that bullshit. Sure Jack was a nice touch, but it was one he couldn’t have though. Even if they stayed friends and went into hiding together, he wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d last before he’d have to go and tear up their little world so he wasn’t pining for something that wasn’t there.

His face must have said it anyway, or something similar because Jack’s eyes flickered something unrecognizable. Hurt? Something else? He was unsure and it disappeared just as quickly as it came.

“So that’s it? Just giving up and hope you live out your life before whatever’s left of them- what? Find you?”

Brock dropped his head away, shaking it a moment before anger took over. “Hey, I was fine before ya showed up ‘ere bein’ all high and fuckin’ mighty. I ain’t got no goddamn idea why ya even _thought_ to show yer face. You coulda easily made it back to Europe, hid out in plain sight even in Poland and had everythin’ goin’ for ya but instead ya came ‘ere, to me! _Me_!”

Jack shook his head dismissively and it only infuriated him, grabbing his friend’s arm to keep him in his place before he even tried to make a break for it with the dishes.

Jack opened his mouth to say something, then didn’t, refused to fight him off either but lingered. Jack’s hand closed gently over his, warm and secure, making Brock feel more than what he’d been feeling and it was hard to pull away. He did eventually though, drawing his hands against his thighs with a sigh.

“I never gave up, I jus wanted some peace fer once.” He scoffed at himself with a shake of his head. “I know what yer thinkin’ too. Brock Rumlow? Peace? Bullshit, I know. Part of it was seein’ if I’d like it, I still do shit but I found I liked takin’ some time out, jus a moment to breathe. Never really did it before, took that bit from you actually. Still can’t believe yer ‘ere.”

“I can’t either.” Jack said, turning his head toward the fire. “I wanted to though, then had to plan it out right. I didn’t mean anything about the perimeter, it’s just that you need something. I know a few guys on the team, still alive when I was hiding out, but by the time I tried to see what was going on, if they were arrested or just gone, it turned out they were dead. Simple as that. I thought you were too, for a long time I let myself believe that, but then I just started picking up clues around your old place. Someone ransacked it before I made it, probably for the better so they leave it alone while I stayed there. Too hurried to look in the right places, amateurs.”

Brock couldn’t help himself when he smiled over that. “Only because they don’t know how to find anythin’ compared to you. Gettin’ an ego there, Rawls.”

“It’s not an ego, I just know how to do my job. Can’t blame a man for being competent.”

Snorting loudly, Brock shook his head. “You can fuckin’ find golden string in a haystack, Jack. I swear by that. It ain’t jus competence, there was a reason you were reassigned to me.”

“I know.” Jack said so softly it got Brock’s attention, their eyes meeting and it was different. He couldn’t pin down why but it just was, his fingers twitched when Jack stretched a hand inward, tracing his fingers across Brock’s wrist and onto the centre of his palm. Brock felt his skin prickle and his hand close around Jack’s, frozen to do anything else. It was then that Jack eased forward and kissed him.

It was brief, but gentle, a light brush of his lips to Brock’s. He stopped breathing and couldn’t think straight, grasping at Jack like he would drown if he didn’t.

Jack drew back, studying him and clearly unsure, hand slipped away from his and finally he picked up the dishes, getting himself up to go clean them.

Brock blinked at the space where Jack previously sat, staring at nothing for several seconds before he remembered to breathe again, reluctantly forcing himself to get up and fight his legs to cooperate. He didn’t try to approach him, watching him wash up before he himself turned to clean up around the fire. Brock had no idea what had just happened and he wasn’t sure Jack knew either. 

They lingered around in silence for a few hours, Jack lost in a book he had brought along with him while Brock tried to focus on what he regularly did like it was any other day while simultaneously attempting to avoid thinking about their kiss.

It got a little more complicated when Jack implied it was time to sleep, checking on the last of the embers and Brock found that a little fascinating, that he still remembered the general time for when he liked turning in. 

He pulled himself up and trailed after Jack as he lit a lantern and climbed the angled ladder. He watched his friend stoop a little as he made his way to the bed and sat down against the corner. 

There was only one bed, fresh sheets spread across it and tucked in neatly. Brock found himself standing at the mouth of the loft as he watched Jack undress in almost everything, lost in his own stupor before one quirked brow went his way and he proceeded to do the same. His heart was pounding against his chest and he tried to keep everything neutral, fingers fumbling with his clothes and soon he was climbing into bed, Jack getting in on the other side.

As he laid his head on the pillow, back to Jack, and all his mind repeated was that Jack had kissed him. Over and over again, on and on like it would somehow finally get through to him and Brock was unsure of that, curling up tighter against the covers.

He rolled out onto his back to stare up at the ceiling and Jack blew out the lantern flame before he settled in. Brock listened until Jack’s breathing grew slow and more lax and it wasn’t a surprise when he was out in less than five minutes.

Jack had never showed the faintest bit of interest in him, at least in that way. Brock was sure he would have picked up on it, knew so many near death missions they’d been in where they were gripping on to each other with no audience and something could have happened but didn’t. Even alone together at Jack’s place could have served for something, even a faint hope or sign that Brock wasn’t suffering in silence. Even at the end there was nothing. As far as he knew, there never was, but Jack had just kissed him and there was no way Brock could brush that under the rug. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep for a very long time, inclining instead to listen to Jack existing right there next to him.

*****

In the morning, when Brock was up, he was surprised to find Jack’s side already empty. He was usually the early riser between the both of them and he lingered, reaching a hand out to run his fingers along the vacant space. Did he dream everything?

He wondered that until the latch of his front door lifted and with a prop of his arm holding him up he spied Jack coming back in and covered in another layer of snow. Jack forced the door to stay open before he hauled in a few loads of wood then secured it closed again and stamped out the snow out of his boots. Trying to keep as still as possible, Brock watched him peel his jacket off, followed by a sweater and then his boots before he rounded to the fire to get the feeling back into his hands. 

Brock took the lull as a chance to get a fresh pair of clothes on and make his way down. By the time he did, Jack was in the kitchen with coffee brewing and there was a small pot near the stove where Brock found some porridge Jack had left for him to eat. 

“Let me get it.” Jack murmured beside him and while Brock wanted to say something back, he chose not to and sat himself down at the small table next to one of the windows.

He was served some coffee and a hefty bowl of porridge topped with sliced apples and a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar. It tasted just as good as it smelled and Brock had been cooking so long with just eating for the sake of eating, he was struck again by how much he missed Jack being around on a regular basis in his life.

Jack sat down across from him and their feet bumped against each other sipping his own coffee, it was comfortable together, the weak sunlight spilling in from the side window and Brock ached to ask about last night without the risk of making things complicated, despite them already laid out that way for him. 

“I set some snares up yesterday, was waiting for you to get up before I head out to check them.”

“Snares?” Brock asked between bites. “Ya killed us dinner and now I find out you’ve been preplannin’ for more before ya even knocked on my door?”

Jack shrugged. “I wasn’t going to invite myself over and eat all your supplies. There weren’t many set though, I only put out about three before the snow was just getting too much and I made way for the cabin.”

*****

  


Brock followed Jack outside covered in one of his daytime coats once they were finished and together they marched through the blanket of snow. His eyes tried not to focus on the fixated way Jack worked when he was reading his own markings like he always did when he was recovering where he’d come from and where the traps would most likely be waiting for them. 

Gripping tighter to the strap across his chest of the hunting rifle, Brock followed as silently as he could, distracting himself to look across the currently clear sky not fooled at all over how quickly the weather could turn if it so chose to, and out here that happened more than he liked.

The trees were thick, bunched close to one another and weighing heavy with so much capped snow. Jack managed to snare one rabbit, frozen stiff from being out overnight. The second had nothing and as they headed for the third, he abruptly raised a heavy gloved hand for Brock to stop.

Moving in beside him, Brock stared at the fresh tracks along the snow before them, wolf ones to be exact. They were too close to his property at this time of the year, food being plentiful as far as he knew away from the cabin, considering none really came around his place usually. This was odd, automatically following along as Jack trailed the paw prints of at least two of them while still heading for his last snare. 

Brock turned his head sharply to the sound of a howl somewhere in the distance, his rifle shifting to the ready. “They ain’t usually this close. Wolves prefer huntin’ the rabbits at the open hillside out on the north side near the streams, they can get fish that way too then.” He informed Jack quietly. “That’s if the bears weren’t dominatin’ it all before hibernation.” 

Jack glanced back at him, smirking a little when he saw the rifle unshouldered. “You’ll be fine, princess. Wolves are gonna figure out quick you aren’t worth fighting and if they don’t, I’ll protect you.”

Brock scoffed, attempting to sound unimpressed at the mere idea of Jack’s assistance when in reality he was trying to keep the fluttering in his stomach as low key as possible. All that came back to him was the kiss last night and the more he did, the more Jack made no sort of indication that they even had, which only made Brock wonder if he hallucinated the whole thing in some mid-evening nap he didn’t catch on to.

Neither were surprised to find bits of rabbit fur, traces of blood and some bones as the only signs left that he had successfully caught something in his last snare. 

“Well shit.” 

Another howl emerged from the distance, a second accompanied it shortly after and much closer than earlier. Jack didn’t seem too worried but he also hadn’t been out here in these wilds like he had, they were too close for Brock’s liking especially if they were in a pack, bonus if they were starving. 

“Jack, we better- ”

He stopped when rustling was heard at their flank a mere few feet away and Jack moved a step back, old instincts instilled in him; it was one that Brock was all too familiar with, Jack’s attention towards the barely detected shadows skulking in the distance of hungry predators while his hand pressed warningly to Brock’s stomach, bodily placing himself between both his ex-Commander and danger.

“Run.” He breathed out, voice barely a whisper. “There’s three of ‘em.”

Brock squinted, he made out two immediately; there was a shimmer of movement, low and patient through snow-thick trees and it was a beat before he saw the other slinking from another angle, technically where he realized was their blind spot. He gripped tighter to his rifle and almost like he could read him, Jack quickly turned his way and gave him a rough push in the direction from where they came from. “_Go_. Fuck the rifle.”

He couldn’t get a word out edgewise as Jack forcefully pushed him again to get going and they set off in a sprint through the dense thicket of snow, hyper-aware of growls cutting into the air and snaps of branches and twigs hinting at how quickly the wolves were going to cover ground before they even made it halfway. 

Brock could only run, trying to block out the chances of them being eaten alive being higher than getting back home in one piece. If Jack had only let him use his rifle..

“Over here!” Jack grunted out, gripping at his coat and forcing him off the path and towards a large tree, low hanging branches quickly jogged Brock’s mind to climb and keep climbing. 

He scaled as fast as he could, somewhere in the chaos his rifle was lost but there wasn’t time to worry, his body wasn’t like his training days; he was still in the best shape he could muster out in the middle of nowhere but it was far from the past. He made a small surprised squawking sound when hands grabbed at his ass and shoved him up faster, leveraging him upwards to the next branch. Grabbing a solid hold, he swung his free arm back and Jack took it, scrambling up next to him in record time.

They were lucky, a pair of salivating jaws snapping at Jack’s boot heel as he pulled his legs up to straddle the larger branch while claws tore against the bark fighting to get up to them.

“Go higher!”

Not needing to be told twice, Brock led them both up further, only a few thick branches more but enough to stay out of any striking range and any rare possibility of alerting a random bear if the wolves couldn’t get to them. He was in no mood to deal with something that _could_ climb up after them.

There was a growl, three pairs of eyes watching them as they circled the base of the tree. Brock straddled one of the thicker branches, both of his hands keeping him balanced as he watched the wolves warily. He scooted a bit outwards away from the trunk of the tree when Jack nudged him slightly and wiggled in behind him. He wasn’t going to move _too_ far, just enough to make sure Jack was wedged in and released a slight gasp when hands grabbed a hold of his hips to yank his back against the front of Jack’s frame. 

Brock tried to ignore the cradle of heat just at his ass, warmth curling around his ears. He was unsure if Jack noticed or not as hands continued to grip tight to him and keep him there; he tilted his head to see him watching the wolves, obvious hunger kept the animals close and Brock stiffened when Jack’s palms slid along to rest against his thighs. The flush Brock felt around his ears began to creep across his face as he went back to last night again and how he was sure Jack knew now how much he liked him doing it.

The wolves were relentless and he knew they were going to be stuck up there for at least a few hours, it was good there didn’t appear to be any lone bears and they could share body heat from each other, it was at least tolerable no matter how much he longed to get back home, maybe tucked under a blanket next to the fireplace.

“At least we’re safe up here.” Jack whispered in his ear and snapped him from his thoughts.

“I jus ain’t excited about gettin’ hypothermia. Once the damn sun goes down, we’re gonna be fucked.” Brock mumbled, trying to get his head back in the game. At least he could have shot them if he hadn’t dropped his fucking rifle, he didn’t even know what Jack had with him, if anything besides a few hunting knives. Their rabbit was apparently long gone too.

“I can keep us warm, did it before remember?” Jack returned, almost casual about it. 

Brock tried not to make a noise as his lips parted at the memory of them getting caught up in a blizzard while on active duty and Jack forcefully holing them up in a space between two rock crags that Brock was unsure would even protect them from the elements above. He had no choice on the matter either way as Jack wrapped a space blanket around his shoulders and pinned him against the hard surface before pulling a second out of their kit to try and keep their collected heat from escaping. They were literally stuck between a rock and another rock with no supplies, Jack’s face tucked in Brock’s hair with all intention to protect his Commander from any harm the best he could. Brock hated it but eventually he slipped his arms around hips, pulled Jack into the small bit of space he gave him out of respect and they slotted themselves in to share every fraction of warmth they could. They never said a word during or after the storm passed but it was there, between them like a gentle memory that was never uncomfortable, it only settled and lingered. Brock was never sure when the first time he had feelings for Jack was, but that day had cemented them in.

He turned his head to look back at Jack over his shoulder, maybe say something in return just to see his expression. Instead Jack pressed lips to his, effectively causing him to lose his train of thought all over again.

Brock couldn’t help sighing into the kiss, Jack sliding hands against his sides until eventually he wrapped his arms around to keep him close. The bite of the cold against skin had quickly dissipated, Jack’s hand lightly cradling his cheek and tilting his head back slightly for deeper access for his mouth, tongue swiping across Brock’s bottom lip then inside.

Jack’s fingers slipped under his jacket, searching beneath layers of fabric before he paused against Brock’s lips. “You’re not wearing much for being out here too long.”

Brock ignored him for another kiss, an involuntary moan escaping that seemed to successfully make Jack set aside his worries. He squirmed to the sensation of cool bare fingers skating across his stomach and an apologetic sorry pressed to his lips, his own hand clutched around Jack’s wrist to keep him there and continue what he was doing. 

Jack attempted to pull away and Brock only tugged him harder into place and nearly losing balance. He was only stilled by Jack’s free hand and a chuckle against his mouth.

“Yeah okay, I get it.” He nudged his nose softly against Brock’s. “We got time to kill before we can head back home anyway.”

_ Home. _

They kissed again, Jack’s hand pressed over his sternum like a promise he was keeping as swirls of snowflakes brushed around them and Brock shifted his leg over the branch to sit sideways, Jack not questioning motives as he undid his winter coat and wrapped it around him the best he could. Letting his head rest against Jack’s shoulder, Brock didn’t bother fighting about the coat or saying a word, he only curled into the warmth and avoided the bite that tried to make its way into every pore of their skin. He was sure Jack pressed a kiss into his hair but he couldn’t be bothered making sure, a yawn escaping as he let his eyes close while arms locked around his frame. He was safe up here, at least there was that.

*****

“Brock.”

Jack’s voice came through the fog.

“Brock. Wake up.”

He shook his head, trying to shake the hazy sensation of heaviness surrounding him. “Wha- ?” His voice slurred. “What’s goin’ on?”

Jack’s hand fell on the back of Brock’s neck, fingers rubbing in slow gentle circles. “You fell asleep, you’re shaking. Come on, we have to get down and get you inside.”

“What?” Brock mumbled, moving carefully when he finally took in the realization that they were still up in a tree.

Jack’s gaze was heavy as he took every precaution offered to him, he felt his hand continuously holding on to him as they slowly climbed down and he hadn’t even made sure the wolves were gone, instead just following Jack’s guidance until they were back on frozen ground. He idled against the trunk of the tree, his head swimming as he tried to get his bearings in the approaching darkness but he couldn’t make heads nor tails with his blurred vision, his numbing hand pressed to the bark. 

“Brock. Stay with me.” The sharper tone snapped something within him, caused him to look up to Jack right beside his missing rifle against shoulder and putting an arm around his waist. “You’re getting hypothermic, we need to get you back quick.”

He couldn’t keep his head up for too long and allowed Jack to pull him in firmly against his side. He knew he was being practically tugged along towards the cabin and couldn’t be bothered to get himself to go on his own terms. He was really unsure he actually could anyway if he was being honest with himself and his confidence only wavered when his teeth began to chatter away. Maybe Jack was right, he wasn’t sure, his eyes attempting to close again for a few more seconds before he was jostled awake.

“Quit it, Jack.”

“Shut up, you’re the one freezing your ass off out here with no fucking clue.”

The wind picked up and he knew Jack was almost as cold as he is, trying his best not to show it but Brock was sure of it as he heard him cough lightly and press him closer to his body heat.

“We’re almost there.” 

Despite how good the news is, Brock couldn’t exactly make out how close they were, it was getting too dark and every now and again he saw a sweep of a flashlight he couldn’t bother looking at. He wanted sleep, and a lot of it, leaning more of his weight heavily into Jack’s side.

Their trek back was slow and arduous as Brock shivered to every bit of wind and movement. His feet and hands felt like he didn’t have them anymore, his gloves had become damp and lost during the mess with the wolves. When Brock could make the blurry outline of his cabin he perked up a little but it wasn’t enough to get him moving faster, instead he stumbled over his boots and fell to his knees just at the vague property lines of it.

Hands pulled him back up and as Brock tried to steady himself, Jack took liberty in picking him up, one arm cradling at his back and the other behind his knees. He was sure they were moving faster this way and it was in no time that he felt warm air rushing up across his whole body in an attempt to push away the cold.

It was funny how much in the past, he didn’t do cold. He was sure out of anyone that Jack probably found it odd when he figured out where he’d gone, how he had decided to hide in the woods where it snowed too fucking much and there was barely a chance for him to bake in the sun and keep up his tan. He grinned at the backwards of it and Jack hauled him the last few steps towards his armchair before sitting him down and telling him to get out of his clothes. He tried to as Jack added a few more logs to the fire but his fingers were so numb that he could barely register them; Jack reached out to help, kneeling down before him as Brock leaned in to the warmth of his hands and he was sure Jack shivered a little bit with him. 

“You didn’t tell me you were freezing out there.”

“I-I wasn’t.” He shot back. “Jus a c-chill.”

“_Yeah_.” Jack mocked. “I see how it was just a chill now. Fucking asshole.”

Brock ignored his gripe, too cold to bother as he tried to breathe calmly and not wince while Jack stripped him of every piece of snow dampened clothing right next to the fire. 

“You’re an idiot, wearing this coat. I should have noticed you weren’t dressed for nightfall.”

“Yer the one t-talkin’ about traps and shit.” Brock bit out between slips of air. “No one told me ‘bout there bein’ wolves chasin’ after our asses.”

Jack shot him a glare but otherwise let it go, coat soaked somewhat and it felt just a little better sitting in his boxers with the fire warm and his skin not feeling clammy and uncomfortable. Jack wrapped him in the light blanket he has on the converted daybed he used as a two-seater couch and tugged him to his feet. As they approached the ladder Brock felt his legs trying to buckle beneath him but Jack kept an arm around his waist and guided him up. It took awhile but they managed together as he fell on the bed with a groan. Jack knelt over next to him and wrapped him in the other blankets, rubbing at his arms carefully as he stared intently down at him.

“You still with me?”

“Mm.” Brock muttered, his head dropping to one side. “P-peachy.”

He leaned into the warm palm pressed to his cheek just before he felt the back of Jack’s fingers brush across his forehead. “You’re still feeling a little cool.” 

Jack moved away and Brock wondered where he’d gone when the bed shifted again, Jack returning to slip under the layers until they were pressed skin to skin, then soon he was rolling over to blanket Brock’s body with his own. Brock imagined being naked in bed with Jack a whole different way, his eyes slipping closed to the sensation of warm air dancing along the side of his neck.

“I should have just gone out on my own, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Brock grinned, too tired. “You were thinkin’ it was a g-good idea.” He drew in a small yawn already feeling his fingers and toes coming back into circulation. “I thought we’d be out fer maybe an hour, t-tops. Then we’d get back to check on perimeter s-shit like you’ve been wantin’ to.” He shivered again at the thought of being up in that tree once more with the wind so sharp. “Shows up ‘ere and almost gets me killed, d-dipshit.”

Jack pressed a grin into Brock’s shoulder, one arm bracing his weight as the other continued to keep the blood circulating around his arms. “Would it have been better if I didn’t?”

“M-maybe fer my sake.”

Jack nuzzled along the side of his neck with a huff of a laugh and Brock fought off a content sigh. He tested his fingers, opening and closing his hands and felt Jack settle quietly, his body always so hot. It was then that Brock realized how long he had been without an ounce of human touch for _years_. Maybe even longer than their last moment together when he was actively longing for Jack before it all went to hell in a handbasket.

“You should sleep.” Jack finally said, drawing his head back to stare down at him. 

Brock knew he should. His circulation was coming back and he was being monitored closely enough. He didn’t even have to consider that, he just knew Jack too well. “W-will ya stay with me?” His teeth had stopped chattering and that slur he’d picked up with the heaviness of his tongue slowly felt like it was wearing off.

“I’ll promise to stay by the bed with you while- ”

“_No_.” Brock ground out with a close of his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see Jack’s face in case he said no. “I mean, like this. In the blankets..as a blanket.”

Jack pursed his lips, but eventually he nodded and dropped his head against Brock’s shoulder. It was only then that he could finally settle down and rest, allowing his eyes to close for a small nap, the quiet beat of Jack’s heart against his own calming him too.

*****

He woke up sweating profusely and wondering if the cabin was on fire before realizing any extremities not covered were taking in the comfortable temperature of air around him. It was only the hair tickling his chin and humid breath along his Adam’s apple that made him realize Jack’s naked body was laid out across his, solid and protective. 

Jack stirred a little, shifting his frame slightly up and he lifted his head before opening one eye like Brock was sure he’d been doing throughout the evening while he was out. His hair was a complete mess, obviously tired but still keeping tabs on him.

“Hey. You’re awake.”

Brock smiled at him and gave him a nod, his mind contemplating a few things before he slipped his hand downward and in between them, gripped at Jack’s cock as he watched the slight expression of surprise across his face. Brock hushed him and Jack reached up, stroking a palm over the side of his face, Brock couldn’t help himself but press a kiss to the heel of Jack’s hand. He wanted this, unsure of what was going to happen after, but right then he had to be with Jack, needed to.

“I want ya to.” He murmured as he leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. Jack’s fingers slipped to the back of his neck and into his hair, a shiver escaping between their mouths. He couldn’t see in the dark but he left his lube in the same place every time, reaching blindly into the side drawer with his free hand and pressed it into Jack’s, refusing to break their kisses over it.

Jack returned it all just as much, Brock letting his legs spread open a bit more, sliding his feet across the sheets so his knees bent and it gave Jack better access. Coated fingers trailed down until he reached his hole and worked him open without any coaxing or second guessing. Jack sighed against his mouth, his hips rocking in a slow rhythm to the hand still wrapped around his thickening cock, and Brock couldn’t help marvelling over how he finally got the chance to touch him there, getting to finally feel how big he knew he was and it made Brock even more eager. He won’t let Jack go, doesn’t ever want to because he won’t be able to forgive himself if he did it again.

He whined when the third finger worked inside of him, and then carefully a fourth. He was ready and had been ready, Jack bodily pressing him down because Brock was trying to get a little bit more out of sheer greed. It’d been too long and he was riding on that edge where he just may go off from those dexterous fingers alone, but he knew Jack wouldn’t let him. Maybe this time though, he could forgive him, let him do it and they could fuck in the morning because this was good like this, this is enough and he just wanted to get off. His mind told him he’d regret it though, shuddering at the way Jack’s teeth pinched just slightly against the side of his neck. He was so stretched open and struggling not to fall to pieces in desperation as sweat trickled down his brow, hand giving Jack a warning squeeze.

“_Easy_, I got you.”

“Fuckin’ killin’ me ‘ere.”

Jack laughed, all breathless and excited, when he was really happy and they were sharing a private moment between them. Brock had missed that too. 

He let himself be turned onto his stomach, legs spread while the sleepiness still lingered in him as he steeled himself, his hips grinding into the friction of the bed while at the same time attempting to offer himself up to Jack with an arch of his back. The way Jack made a groan like he was dying, Brock knew it had worked and he couldn’t help the smile spread across his lips.

Jack pressed kisses down his spine and it startled him a little. He was ready to be taken, anticipated it, but Jack’s hands slid down his sides instead, gentle and soft, uttering small praises like he was “perfect” and “beautiful” and the words lodged themselves into Brock’s chest because this wasn’t supposed to be how it went. He stole a glance back, Jack’s hands worked on spreading cheeks apart, kneading and taking his sweet time, the cool air startling him a little in the process and Brock couldn’t help the way he flushed to all the attention Jack was paying back there despite how much he wanted him. He turned forward and let his eyes close, shuddering a breath while his skin rose with goosebumps in anticipation.

“Come on..” Brock complained into a pillow. “I ain’t some kinda paintin’ you spend time starin’ at.”

“Keep thinking that.” Jack shot back, his thumb torturously easing into him, like all the time in the world- lazy and curious, and Brock couldn’t help making a pathetic noise he was sure was a whine.

Jack shifted on the covers, Brock glancing back to see him lower his body down and before he realized what he was up to, Jack buried his face between his cheeks, mouth open and tongue flat against his hole. Brock almost jerked away in surprise, face dropping forward into the pillow again and hands kept a stern hold on him. Brock knew he was never letting him leave now.

He could feel Jack working his tongue in circles, dipping in and out in slow sweeps and Brock had a bout of nervousness and self consciousness, though if he wasn’t complaining about the lube, he assumed Jack wasn’t picky too much while his knuckles turned white around the sheets. 

Jack’s hands were too tight on his ass, though the pain kept him grounded from all the pleasure and how he couldn’t focus properly from the way Jack’s tongue worked him over. He pressed inside, stroking and flicking and sucking on his rim; occasionally teeth were used so very gently and Brock felt like sobbing, struggling from the warring emotions of pushing back against Jack’s face or pulling away because he was so close to cumming just from that and it wasn’t what he ultimately wanted.

His body was so hot and he could feel a bead of sweat roll down his face while Jack slid up his back, his body fitting just right and Brock almost cried in relief to the tip of his cock pressed right against his hole.

“You really want this?” Jack asked, because he always made sure Brock was comfortable with things, breath dancing along his bare shoulder and teeth affectionately nipping along skin. His nose brushing against him with that affection Jack always harboured in secret, Brock was just too stupid to realize it was for him.

Brock couldn’t help but whine pitifully against him, arching his ass back. They both gasped low when the head of Jack’s cock just barely began to slip inside, catching a little at the rim from the misalignment and Jack held him down, teasingly drawing away and keeping him still until Brock realized what he was doing and nodded frantically.

“Yeah, fuck. M’sure. I’m so fuckin’ sure, Jackie. Now get the hell in me.”

The huff of laughter into his hair wasn’t missed, Jack bowing his head with one hand planted at Brock’s side and he shook a little unsteadily but there was that control he always had, careful and aware of everything he was surrounded by. Brock felt Jack’s other arm squeeze in between them grabbing a hold of his cock a moment and fumbling for the lube again before he was back and guiding himself in with a quick, rough sound of his breathing picking up. Brock wasn’t helping the situation, hips restless as he struggled to keep still and not fuck himself on it despite so much of wanting to.

“Hurry up, Jackie.” Brock rambled. “So fuckin’ slow- ”

It was slightly frustrating, charming at times now that he got _why_, how Jack worried over not hurting him, that he had a protective nature _if_ he gave a shit about the person, it was a big part of him. 

Brock could feel the rapid beat of Jack’s heart against his back and how he was now trembling to everything, his hips were fighting him as they moved forward in careful halts like he was catching himself over and over until almost completely in. It was further torture, Brock gritting his teeth, when Jack drew back nearly entirely out before pushing in again, a slow and steady rhythm that began to climb as he thrust in deeper each time, purposefully fucking into him like they had hours to do it.

The longer Jack went on with it, the more urgent Brock felt to push back, to force the pace to pick up and get on with it. It wasn’t his first time like this, definitely not his last and it was what he always did to get partners to get a move on, but this was _Jack_. He wanted to spend all the time they could, tucked away privately in their little part of the world together, but he was also greedy and hungry for more. He knew Jack for more than face value, wanted that drive and those peeks of bloodlust on the field to be in the bedroom between them. He keened with soft noises of excitement to every grind of hips and Jack groaned as if he was tormented over it, his head dropping against the side of his neck and breathing hotly against his skin. It was exactly what Brock wanted him to feel like, knew it was the best way to convince Jack to switch gears and give him something more animalistic than something lovers do on a lazy Sunday afternoon. They had plenty of time to be sweet and he’d convince him like this instead of goading him, this time at least.

He did reach back though, his fingertips brushing down Jack’s lower back and pressing against ass cheek, shivering with a whine as his cock sank in again. Every pass through felt much deeper than the last despite how he’d already bottomed out a bit ago. He felt so full every time it happened, in awe of how he’d never experienced something like this before.

Brock continued making mindless noises, allowing himself to let go and be vocal and needy. It wasn’t even an act unlike other times he was in bed, and it didn’t take long for Jack to drop aside the need to make it last. He dug in with his knees and Brock felt hands grip at his hips before he was pulled back completely, Jack’s hips pressed firm against his ass and he knew exactly what was about to happen.

“That’s it, Jackie..” Brock cooed, grinning muzzily. He pressed his cheek into the pillow again, blindly searching for the headboard of the bed. “Show me what you’ve been holdin’ back, sweetheart.” He panted into the blanket, getting some leverage with one hand and rocking his body back to encourage Jack to get moving. “_C'mon_.”

Jack responded by moving on his knees a bit more, getting that balance Brock had on the headboard by placing his hand over his and Brock forced his fingers between the spaces so they locked in together. Jack’s other hand pressed to Brock’s chest, lingering over the plexus before it slid down and rested low at his belly. It gave Brock a fragment of something tender, something that was so Jack, like when he’d hold an umbrella over his head during meet ups before work and Brock forgot about the weather or the way he’d slide his hand across the small of his back before it was gone again when he was letting him walk in front of him for a meeting. Such minor things, like this, where Brock felt safe and knew Jack was aware for the both of them, let that little bit of tension ease out.

It was a fleeting thought though when Jack began to drive hard into his body with sharp, precise thrusts. Brock couldn’t help the surprised sob that fell out of him, the side of his cock skimming along the back of Jack’s hand with every movement but he did nothing about it, precum smearing across his knuckles and causing the action to slide more easily creating a confusion of friction Brock couldn’t do anything about. He didn’t want to either way, holding on the best he could with the heel of his hand pressing hard against the mattress and tightening his grip against the headboard with Jack’s fingers. Jack did all the work, driving in over and over again as Brock allowed himself to be held in place, an involuntary rock forward from the force of his thrusts the only thing that jarred him but he took it happily because he was only getting exactly what he wanted finally.

He got a little bit of a thrill from how obscene the noises they made together were, everything echoing through his open-spaced cabin and bouncing unashamedly against the walls. It sounded so _wet_, Jack’s dick thrusting in and out, the slap of skin against skin, their punched out moans and how Brock couldn’t help the slutty way he whined shamelessly as his second hand wooden bed made gentle protests in between all of it while Jack lead them both to a mind-shattering climax. Brock found he was a little disappointed they weren’t doing this back in New York where the neighbours could hear how forward their friendship had gone, even if it was an asshole thing to do.

It was Jack burying his face into his hair with a growl that cued Brock on how close he was getting, felt him press his weight forward further. He was unsure of what exactly was happening, not until the angle shifted so his upper body was pushed further down and Brock jolted, his entire being feeling like the wind was punched out of him and there was no way for him to breathe again, a choked sob falling past his lips. Jack held him tight, supported them both and he could feel the way he grinned, imagined his green eyes ablaze with pride just like every other time he’d had won his little private victories. Jack spread his fingers wide across his belly and Brock let him maneuver his hips just a touch upwards, the weight of his sweat-slicked frame blanketing across his back, his cock pounding that same spot over and over again. Brock was dizzy, a pitched whine filling his ears and it took a moment to realize he was the one doing it, his mouth slack and drooling slightly against the pillow with every motion as his body trembled. He was so close, feeling a wave of emotion press against his chest.

He was brought out of his head when Jack took his hand off his stomach and slid it over his own, guided them down to where his cock was leaking, hard and flushed, aching for release as he continued fucking into him without breaking rhythm. Together with their fingers tangled, Brock was finally getting the relief he yearned for, only a few strokes before he cried out into the pillow and came all over the sheets.

Jack leaned more of his weight against his back, and Brock clenched tight around his cock as he was eased down from his orgasm and distantly he could hear Jack groan into his hair and mumble out his name like it was all that was holy, his own moans smothered into the bed. 

“Do it, Jackie. Cum inside me.” He slurred. The hot pant of Jack’s breath washed across the back of his neck, a growl edging against heated skin. He was held painfully tight now, hard biceps crushing against either side of him and Brock clung on as best he could, knowing every desperate snap of Jack’s hips was one more thrust closer to him climaxing and wanting so badly to feel everything Jack was willing to give. “_Please_.”

It was what did the trick, what pushed Jack over. His hips stuttered erratically for a moment and he pressed in impossibly deep. Brock felt Jack throbbing and he’d had a flash of realization that he’d never let anyone cum inside of him before; the sensation weird but not unpleasant especially not when it was Jack doing it. Brock attempted to lift his head and relax his breathing just as he felt cum trickle down his balls; it was another strange feeling in itself that he lingered over while feeling the rise and fall of his chest against the beat of Jack’s heart.

Jack loosened his hold around him and Brock could finally breathe easier, made a small noise when he was kissed apologetically against his temple because of it, and he felt a little lightheaded, a little winded, Jack nuzzling the shell of his ear in breathless affection. Brock knew he loved him, didn’t have to make sure but he knew indefinitely, Jack was his forever and no one else would ever be good enough to take his place.

He was still struggling to bring all his systems back online from the haze when Jack carefully pulled himself out and Brock whined weakly once more. Two fingers slid back inside of him and while it wasn’t the same thing it was acceptable, Jack’s thumb stroking softly over his perineum. 

“This okay?” He asked, pressing a few kisses along the side of his face.

Brock hummed, pleased and content for the moment. He was too lazy to speak and Jack only chuckled, easing them both onto their sides to spoon and shifting a little away from any wet spots before cradling him close. It felt nice like this, not something he’d ever thought about having but now Brock felt inclined to want always. When Jack tried to untangle himself to maybe get something to clean them up with, Brock made an abortive noise that he understood too well. He leaned a little off the bed before coming back with a scrap of some sort of clothing, wiping him down before easing behind him again. His knuckles softly stroked over Brock’s chest and down his belly making him feel at peace in a way he’d never realized he’d wanted, made him wonder just how acute Jack was to things he did yearn for that Brock’s mind wasn’t telling him about.

“How long ‘til ya gotta leave?” He abruptly blurted out, his gaze fixated across the ceiling beams just barely caught out of the shadows. His throat felt tight, dreading the answer.

Jack stopped, leaning his head close and probably trying to get a good look at his face, after a moment Brock let himself turn to stare back and saw that pensive expression on his face. 

“I don’t know if you noticed but you live in the middle of fucking nowhere. I didn’t come by just to stay for a couple of days and then leave again.”

He said it so slow that Brock felt like he missed the plot completely, rolling onto his back so he could get a better look at Jack. He tried processing everything that had happened since he’d arrived and Jack waited patiently despite that slight worry in his gaze. Brock remembered how he called the cabin _home_ and now realized he must have been wondering if he wasn’t welcome to stay.

The thing was, Brock never wanted him to leave. 

“You looked fer me to..be with me.” He heard himself say, more to himself than to Jack, sounding slightly astonished at the concept.

Jack ducked his head, his expression uncharacteristically shy but then he glanced over again, clearly amused.

“It’s time for bed, Brock. Have a long day tomorrow, things we have to figure out and get this place up to date.”

Brock allowed Jack to turn him back onto his side again, blanket tugging over top of them and he was asleep in no time.

*****

Brock woke up to sunlight across his face and found he had slept in again, covered in two blankets and his body humming in a familiar and content soreness he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The spot where Jack had slept was cold, his nose picking up the scent of coffee wafting up into the rafters and a steady ongoing string of dense strikes carrying on from outside.

He pulled on some clothes and quickly headed to the front door after grabbing a mug of coffee. Outside he found Jack chopping wood, dressed in only a pair of jeans and an open red flannel shirt, his winter coat tossed against the wood pile. Beams of sunlight caught the sweat glistening across his abs and Brock happily got a flash of Jack’s pert nipple hiding beneath the fabric when he took another swing. He was gorgeous like this and Brock could stare all day despite the wind reminding him how deceptive the sun was during this time of the year; Jack should know better. 

He was probably just lying in wait, waiting to show off.

Brock couldn’t hold back the bark of a laugh at the thought as well as the sight, it was one he never realized he wasn’t ready for and Jack turned his way with a lift of his brow accusingly. 

“Oh _c’mon_! Don’t even gimme that look, alright? You ain’t stickin’ around ‘ere with yer fuckin’ flannel shirt open and choppin’ wood like some romance novel cover without me sayin’ nothin’ about it.” 

He was too busy mocking him to register Jack tossing the axe aside so he could approach his way. There was a feeble attempt to turn around and make a run for it while also preserving his coffee, but arms came around his stomach and Jack pressed flush to his back. Brock didn’t fight it, but he did make an attempt to get loose even if he was only held tighter. 

“You really want this, Brock? Play house here, with me?”

Brock heard the lace of worry in Jack’s mostly confident lines. He was making sure last night wasn’t a mistake despite cementing it before they slept, that he’d honor a retraction and leave him be if he wished. It was far from what Brock wanted or needed, his free hand slipping down to press against Jack’s. He had to tell him, because if he didn’t he’d lose the words back to the depths of his mind. 

“I love ya, Jack. Since we met, fuckin’ feel like it’s been longer.”

The second the words come out, he closed his eyes and felt the shift in Jack’s body, rigid and tense. 

“When?”

Brock tilted his head to the side a bit. “When did I realize?”

Jack only nodded, arms squeezing around him. 

“A few times, when we worked together, when ya came back to me. I felt ‘em. I wondered if it was the loneliness but you actually cared and I kept thinkin’ about it. Then we had sex and I was realizin’ that you were it fer me..that was when I knew too. That and I don’t think I ever looked at anyone else like I looked at you after you walked into my life that first day. It’s kinda fucked up but it’s what happened.”

There was a pause between them before Jack exhaled deeply and Brock turned his head, coaxed him to look his way and they shared a kiss just before a cold breeze caught up to remind them both of how fucking cold it was outside. After the wolves, Brock had no urgent need to be standing around in the chill again, besides..he wanted to spend some more time with Jack. A list of ideas already forming in his head.

He pulled himself away and hooked two fingers around Jack’s pinkie, guiding him back into the cabin. It was familiar but different at the same time, the gesture, but as always Jack easily fell in to Brock’s lead like when he was assigned to his team. Now it felt like there had never been a time they were ever apart and finally he understood that this is how life was supposed to go for them, it was each other they were made for no matter where they were and no one would ever be able to break that bond apart.

For Brock it also meant that he didn’t have to be alone anymore, and that Jack realized that faster than he did..but it was okay. He managed to figure it all out in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and checking out the wonderful art <3 Kudos and comments are always welcomed as well as if you want to like or reblog the tumblr post [here!](https://kalika999.tumblr.com/post/189048870555/i-had-the-luck-of-partnering-up-with-rennemichaels)


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